


Corpus Christi

by 1863



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Church Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 19:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18198542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1863/pseuds/1863
Summary: “Why didn't you ask sooner?” Alucard's breath is hot against Trevor's back. “Think of all the grand cathedrals we could have desecrated…”





	Corpus Christi

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: 100 words of sex in places of worship.

“This is actually making you harder, isn't it?” 

Alucard's voice is deeply amused. 

“Fuck off,” Trevor says — or tries to, at any rate, since Alucard chooses that exact moment to thrust in again, so brutally hard that for a few long seconds, it literally takes Trevor's breath away. 

“What would your ancestors think,” Alucard muses, leaning down and licking at the sweat at the nape of Trevor's neck. His mouth brushes the side of Trevor's throat, the faint scrape of his fangs another reminder of just how thoroughly Trevor is at his mercy right now. But as hard as Alucard is fucking him, his teeth don't break Trevor's skin, and if being bent over a church altar and fucked from behind is a sign of Trevor's weakness then Alucard's restraint is a sign of Trevor's trust, too. Not that he'd ever admit it aloud, of course. 

“Why didn't you ask sooner?” Alucard's breath is hot against Trevor's back. “Think of all the grand cathedrals we could have desecrated…” 

His tongue drags roughly down Trevor's spine, mapping every contour like he's committing it to memory. And hell, Trevor thinks, maybe he is — vampires were strange enough, let alone one that’s a half-human hybrid. Maybe he was counting each vertebrae, thinking about how best to rip them out. 

“That's uncharitable,” Alucard says, and Trevor belatedly realises that he'd been babbling out loud. It's entirely Alucard's fault though, what with the way he alternates between fucking him so hard and fast that Trevor can barely think, and fucking him so slowly that Trevor can barely breathe. 

Right now it's the latter, Alucard filling him up so excruciatingly slowly that Trevor has to shut his eyes, biting his lip so hard he draws blood. 

Alucard suddenly stills. 

“What's the matter?” Trevor manages to ask. His voice is hoarse, muffled against the altar cloth where his mouth is pressed against it. He laughs a little. “Tempted?” 

Alucard starts rolling his hips again, liquid-smooth thrusts that make Trevor cry out against his will, hands fisting the altar cloth as Alucard fucks him with carefully controlled intensity.

“They say the priests drink the blood of their god at these altars,” Alucard says, voice noticeably rougher that it was before. Trevor moans at the sound of it, recognising bloodlust when hears it; a hunger for things Alucard rarely names. “If I drink yours here, would that make you a god to me?” 

“I'd rather — oh, _fuck,_ ” Trevor gasps, voice breaking a little, unable to finish the thought as Alucard suddenly speeds up again. 

“You'd rather fuck?” Alucard asks. He leans down again and laughs quietly into Trevor's ear. “Well, amen to that.”


End file.
